


2:47 a.m.

by piinkmocha



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (why do I always write angst?), Angst, Everything she does is amazing, F/M, I wrote a little story for Kenya, Sad, because she's amazing, honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 00:50:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8600626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piinkmocha/pseuds/piinkmocha
Summary: "I never stopped lovin' ya, kid."[A little story I'm dedicating to my favorite author.]





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KenyaKetchup (temptedmelibea)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/temptedmelibea/gifts).



> This was just a little angst fic I had an idea for that I figured I'd dedicate to my favorite author on this site! I really loved her story, "Don't Forgive and Pretend to Forget," so I suppose that sort of inspired this??
> 
> Regardless, I hope you like it!

Frisk clutched the covers and pulled them closer to her, shivering slightly as a cold breeze drifted through her window.

 

She refused to close the window at night, no matter how cold it was - it could be pouring rain, or hailing - hell, it could be a goddamn _blizzard,_ and she wouldn't close that window. Because she'd slept with it open every single night for five years. Of course, the bed hadn't ever been cold or empty in those five years.

 

Her phone buzzed. At first, it didn't wake her. Then, it buzzed again. Finally, after about five minutes, it began to vibrate intensely as she received a phone call. It startled her awake. She blinked her eyes open and squinted at the clock that sat on her nightstand.

 

_2:47 a.m._

 

Groggily, she reached for her phone. She didn't recognize the number, so she briefly considered not answering it. She found herself hitting the 'accept' button anyways shortly after, though.

 

"Mmmh? Hello?"

 

A familiar voice on the other end replied, "Frisk?"

 

Frisk froze up at the sound of the voice - her grip on the phone tightened so much so that her knuckles turned white; she felt her throat close up. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't speak.

 

"Frisk," the voice repeated, "are you there?"

 

She could now hear the slur in the voice -

"Sans?"

Was he drunk?

 

"Frisk," he said for the third time, sounding almost excited, "I was hopin' you'd be awake, um..."

 

"What do you want?" She barely managed to choke the words out, feeling her voice threaten to tremble as she propped herself up on her mattress.

 

"I miss you." He fumbled over the words, his voice hardly more than a whisper on the other end of the line.

 

Frisk suppressed the anger she felt boiling up inside of her. Her voice remained quiet, and icy calm.

"Sans, you're drunk."

 

"Well, y'know what they say, 'bout... um, sober thoughts and all."

 

"Sans- I'm hanging up."

She yanked the phone away from her ear and ended the call before she could hear his response. Feeling herself begin to tear up, she took a few deep breaths. _Just go back to sleep,_ she told herself, _you can act like this never happened, just go back to sleep..._

 

The phone started ringing again. She ignored it until it stopped.

Again, it rang. Again, she ignored it.

A third time - and well, now, she was frustrated.

 

Giving in, she answered, not giving him a chance to speak before snapping, "what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

 

"Kid."

His voice cracked, and _God,_ was he _crying?_

"Kid, listen t' me," he begged, and she didn't dare interrupt. "I- I fuckin' miss you, Frisk, okay? An' I know I hurt you real bad, kid, and I... I'm sorry, Frisk. I just - I can't stop thinking about you tonight, y'know? I just... fuck, I'm sorry, Frisk."

 

She could barely believe what she was hearing - and while she felt some sort of relief rush through her, it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to repair the damage. It wasn't enough to make things right.

"You're with Tori now," she reminded him quietly, her soft, monotone voice obviously catching him off guard. "Don't do this to her. Don't hurt her like you hurt me."

 

"I never meant t' - kid, I'm sorry..."

 

"Why are you calling me?" She clutched the phone even tighter, her voice shaking slightly. "Why are you doing this? Did you and Tori get into a fight?"

 

Sans hesitated, before whispering in a voice that sounded so _defeated,_ "yeah."

 

It was almost as if the earth had dropped from beneath her feet. She felt hurt, she felt _used,_ she felt... _angry._ Of _course_ he'd only called because things were going wrong in his life. Of _course_ he only called because he needed someone to fall back on. Of course.

 

"Sans." She no longer tried to hide the anger in her tone. "I'm not sure if you remember, but _you_ left _me._ Because you were _bored of me._ I spent five years doing everything I could for you - fucking _everything,_ Sans - and it wasn't enough. You were never happy. And look, I'm sorry too, okay? I'm sorry I wasn't what you wanted. But I've spent the past two years learning how to trust and love again. I've spent the past two years repairing the damages you've caused. I still care about you, but I will _not_ be your rebound. I will _not_ let you lure me back into this... this _cycle_ we had going on. I care about you, but I don't want anything to do with you anymore. I can't do it, Sans."

 

There was only silence on the other end of the line - and Frisk heard a soft sob, followed by a stuttered apology. She exhaled slowly, trying to stop her hands from shaking. She couldn't let him know how badly this was hurting her, too. She felt a tear rolling down her cheek, but she ignored it.

"Please... if you're sorry, Sans, if you don't want to hurt me, you won't ever call me again."

 

"I never stopped lovin' ya, kid," Sans finally replied, very obviously trying to keep his cool. "Tori is great, but she's... Frisk, if I could take it all back, I would. You know I would."

 

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly. "Goodnight, Sans."

 

***Click.***

 

She set her phone back on her bedside table, half expecting it to ring again.

It didn't.

 

She lay back on her mattress and stared at the ceiling, feeling tears spill over and stain her pillowcase. She sobbed until she felt she couldn't move her body. A strong gust of cold wind hit her, and she reached for her blankets, shaking intensely, from both the cold and the hurt.

 

She hesitated just before grabbing them. With the strength she had left, she dragged herself out of her bed and walked over to her window. She stared at it for a good, long while, before finally reaching up, grabbing the frame, and slamming it shut with all her might.

**Author's Note:**

> Definitely check out Kenya's work if you haven't already. If you love angsty shit + asshole Sans, her story 'Creep' will definitely be to your liking. [Seriously, she's amazing. Shower her with praise and affection.]


End file.
